


be okay

by blackpercy



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, it's like....mutual pining, they're not dating btw, this is just a small thing i did to make up for not updating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackpercy/pseuds/blackpercy
Summary: Rachel is sad and Percy is there for her
Relationships: Rachel Elizabeth Dare & Percy Jackson, Rachel Elizabeth Dare/Percy Jackson
Kudos: 14





	be okay

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i haven't updated past oneshots lately. i got school and other irl stuff to take care of but here's a nice one-shot

Rachel could get sad.

Percy knew this firsthand. It wasn’t a rare occasion, Rachel just knew how to hide it well.

Above all, Rachel had a fear of driving her loved ones away. She had spent her childhood practically alone, so she didn’t want to push away those she called her friends. Because of this fear, she usually repressed her pain, feeling as though she wasn’t worthy to feel it.

(To Percy, that was bull. She deserved to feel her emotions just like any other person. She was more than worthy.) 

The first stage was always a cheery “I’m fine”. Rachel would mask her hurt under a bright smile, a friendly punch on the shoulder, and a wave goodbye. Percy knew she was scared that if she expressed how she really felt, the people she loved would leave. He guessed it was a result of growing up with her parents’ conditional love, but he was no psychologist.

The second stage was the soberness. Rachel would don a blank expression, one void of the previous joy. She would just think, maybe reflecting or maybe stewing, Percy wasn’t sure of that.

After the blank stage, came the “try not to cry” stage. Rachel didn’t snap. She didn’t scream or insult. She only hid somewhere and let tears well in her eyes. She would clench her fists, and, occasionally, Percy would find her throwing darts at her wall. Whatever storm was trapped inside her brain was threatening to take over any minute.

And, when it did, Percy was there.

He listened, handed out advice, and said a joke or two. Even when she wasn’t feeling it, Rachel laughed at the joke. To her, it was important enough that Percy was there. 

After her vent session, Rachel always went out to speak to the perpetrator, as she never wanted to have bad blood between other people.

Unless it was her parents. If it was her parents, the only thing that Rachel needed was a hug and someone to listen to her speak. 

It was the summer before their senior year of high school. Rachel was supposed to go back to Clarion Academy and Percy was supposed to go to Alternative High School. If he was guessing correctly, the argument with her parents had probably been about returning. 

She was painting in the Oracle’s cave at the moment. The other campers had seen her pull up in the camp van and she had immediately gone to the beach, just staring at the waves lapping the sand. According to an Aphrodite camper, she had spent an hour there before sighing and going to her cave.

When the camper (who’s name was Beck) told him, Percy had immediately known what was going on. She had probably just spoken to her parents, and it probably hadn’t gone well.

He crossed the threshold of cabins to find Rachel’s cave, the mouth of it faintly emanating light. Rachel hated dark spaces.

He pushed aside the boho-style curtain to see Rachel sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the sofa and examining an easel in front of her. Her curly red hair was pulled up into a bun and she was wearing an oversized pair of overalls with the orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt. 

“I would knock, but you don’t have a door.”

Percy smiled gently at Rachel’s small jump. She sighed in relief.

“You scared the crap out of me,” she sighed, pressing a hand to her heart. Percy sat by her side to examine her painting.

Percy felt disorganized looking at it, but he didn't want to tear his eyes away. It was a swirl of colors. Reds, blues, greens, purples. They were swirled on the canvas in large circular motions, a display of purposeful chaos, most likely a glimpse into her thoughts.

He tore his eyes away from the page to look at Rachel, she was studying the canvas. A copper curl had fallen out of her bun, her light green eyes were focused and her eyebrows drawn. Rachel’s light-brown, freckled skin had a few smudges of paint.

She was too beautiful.

“It’s terrible,” she said. Her voice was hard, unforgiving at her frenzied project and so unlike her.

Percy cocked his head to the side, his lips quirking up as he stared at her.

“Is it supposed to be?”

She glanced at him. Rachel’s expression was raw and vulnerable like she might burst into tears.

Percy knew that when she said “it”, she meant “I”. Rachel reflected the thoughts and emotions she couldn’t communicate through art. Every single piece of hers had a meaning to it. Percy knew her well enough to know what she meant, why she had probably stormed to this cave, and painted swirls of therapeutic circles on the canvas rather than a conventional piece.

Rachel felt like she was going around and around, repeating the same emotions, and going through the same cycle of hurt.

Of course, that was just his theory. Percy couldn’t read her mind but he could pretty close.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. Her posture sagged and she hugged her knees, dropping her forehead on top of them. Percy moved to wrap his arms around her. 

Rachel had always been there for him, even when he snapped or was impatient with himself. She was always there with her wry smile and her everlasting belief that he could do anything. She had always wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close when he was too numb to speak. Rachel had always known, and she had always been there.

It was his turn now.

The cave was silent as Percy held her. Rachel didn’t cry, she just wrapped her arms around his waist and placed her forehead in the crook of his neck. Percy didn’t disturb her thought process, he just decided to be there.

“How come I’m not enough for them?” She asked softly, in a broken way that made Percy's heart crack in half. “Actually, how come I’m not enough for anybody?”

Percy’s eyebrows furrowed. He couldn’t see how someone as witty, bright, and kind as Rachel could possibly see themselves as not enough.

“I’m…” Rachel stuttered, and Percy reached out a hand to hold hers. She looked at him gratefully before continuing. “I guess I’ve always known that I’m not good enough for them. I guess being a millionaire and seeing your only child scream ‘Down with corporations!’ at local protests is too much.”

Percy laughed and bumped her shoulder, “Just a tad.”

Rachel smiled sadly. Percy wished he could make her smile bright and full of laughter again, but that wasn’t what Rachel needed. 

“Nobody ever wants to be around me until they need me. I guess I’ve given up on being liked so I’ve decided to be useful. But with my parents, I can’t be useful to them because I can’t support what they want from me. Weirdly, I love my parents, even if they...” her voice cracked with emotion and her eyes gained a faraway look,”...even if they don’t love me.”

Percy processed the information silently, trying to judge what the best response was. He glanced at the redhead beside him, then back at her painting, her mind-muddling, emotional painting.

He caught her eye, then he turned his body to face her, reaching out to gently tilt her drooping chin up.

“Rache,” he whispered to her, brushing away a tear that had fallen with his thumb. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,  _ you’re _ okay. Actually, you’re more than okay. You're stupendous, spectacular, glorious, amazeballs?”

Rachel exhaled a laugh. “ _Somebody's_ been cracking open their pocket dictionary." 

Percy laughed with her, letting go of her chin to play with her hair. "Thanks, I'm happy you noticed.” He wrapped his arms around her waist in a tight hug, smiling as her arms reached up to hang around his neck.

“Your parents’ opinion on you doesn’t define you, Rache,” he said slowly. “You’re still kind and amazing on your own. You’re still my best friend.”

Rachel nods. She doesn’t say anything, she just drops her forehead in the crook of his neck and sighs. Percy can live with that. If she was thinking about it, she was healing, it meant she would be okay.

That was all Percy wanted for her.


End file.
